


Tonight I Won't Know Your Name

by Lion_owl



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Doug Judy, Bisexual Jake Peralta, Canon Compliant, Episode: s01e03 The Slump, Episode: s01e12 Pontiac Bandit, M/M, One Night Stands, Season/Series 01, referenced future Jake/Amy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 22:24:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15872925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: “Fly to Montréal, hit a classy hotel bar, bone a stranger, slump over.”His slump is over, but Jake can’t get Rosa’s idea out of his head. So he goes anyway, and has a wonderful night. It’s the last thing he expects when months later, Rosa arrests the stranger in question.





	Tonight I Won't Know Your Name

Finally. _Finally,_ the four piles of open case folders had become a single, solitary file.

Well, that was partly because a lot of them had been redistributed more evenly throughout the squad, but Jake could pretend to himself that he’d solved all of them.

Whatever, the slump was over, it was gone, he could finally get back to his job, back to his life.

He could finally catch back up with Santiago on the tally for their bet.

But that wasn’t the only thing on his mind.

Rosa had put the idea in his head, and now he couldn’t get it out of there.

_“Fly to Montréal, hit a classy hotel bar, bone a stranger,” she’d said. “Slump over.”_

_“That sounds amazing,” he’d agreed. And it did._

But the slump was over now. Cured by mounds of boring-to-death paperwork. He didn’t need Rosa’s Montréal sex thing any more.

So why, then, did he have an airline website up on his computer? And why, then, was it in the midst of calculating the cheapest, soonest flight from New York to Montréal? Huh, weird.

“You’re going to do it anyway,” Rosa noted, appearing behind him. “Dope.”

“Yeah, apparently so,” Jake said.

“Nice,” Charles slid in beside Rosa. “Going to do what?”

“Montréal,” Jake said.

“No, no! You can’t, you–” Charles began; Jake cut him off before he could finish that precarious sentence.

“Too late, flights are booked.” Jake glanced at Santiago, then quickly away to Rosa. “This is going to be fuuuuun.” He emphasised the point with a thumbs-up

*

“Noice, noice, noice,” Jake said, as he looked around the extravagant reception of the hotel Rosa recommended – clearly, this was a plan she had, in the past, implemented; though Jake had been surprised that she would reveal her choice of establishment.

He’d never before seen such shiny, rich-looking furniture (he’d later learn that every cabinet and shelf and bedpost in this building was made of solid walnut – as though that was supposed to mean something?) that Jake felt he should almost be afraid to touch it; and the room was bathed in orange-yellow light.

It _oozed_ expensive and Jake definitely could not afford the room he had paid for. But he was here now so he’d make the best of it. Bury his bank account in the sand, hit the bar, bone a stranger.

Hot lady. Oh my god, there was a hot lady in the check-in queue in front of him. He should say something, he should say hi. She could be his stranger. She was hot, and she had turned around and was smiling at him.

His brain was going too fast all of a sudden.

“Fancy furniture,” he remarked, cursing his moves for leaving him. Moves, what moves?

She shrugged. “It’s average, for the places I usually frequent.”

Rich, hot lady, he added to his mental list. Not that the rich part mattered, just, y’know… way to make him feel even more out of place here. Damn it!

The queue moved up and her place was now at the front of it. She turned away from him to face the receptionist, her loose, long hair tumbling around her shoulders. Jake tried not to stare.

*

True to everything else he’d encountered this evening, the bed in his room was definitely the softest he’d ever had the pleasure to lie down on. He felt like it was engulfing him. He almost fell asleep.

But he was on a mission.

So, after lying splayed out on clouds for twenty minutes or so, he got up and ran through the shower before dressing in fresh clothes and headed down to the bar.

She was there.

“Fancy meeting you here,” she said, beckoning him over. She’d done up her hair.

“Well it’s…” he trailed off. Now was not the time for pointing out the obvious fact they were staying in the same hotel and that for all its grandeur, it only had one bar. “Well it’s a pleasure, ma’am,” he said, flourishing his arms and unintentionally putting on an exaggerated accent.

“Are you here with someone?” she asked.

“I’m not,” he said, “are you?”

“Just me, myself and I; unless you want some company,” she said.

He smiled. “I’m Jake,” he said. “May I buy you a drink?”

“Heather,” she held out her arm and dipped her hand. “Enchanté.”

He grimaced. He wasn’t familiar with the gesture she was making, and he wasn’t fully sure what that word meant.

“Never mind,” she said, frowning and getting up from her seat. 

“Wait, Heather,” he said, but she was already walking away. “Heather!” He called after her, but to no avail.

Well, _that_ went well, Jake thought, sourly. What had he done to offend her so suddenly? That was that, though. She was no longer anywhere in sight, and he wasn’t going to chase her down when she had clearly changed her mind. Oh well. Perhaps there would be someone else. Or perhaps, he’d drink alone, and this entire trip would have been a waste of the money he didn’t really have.

But he was here now so he’d make the best of it.

He ordered a drink.

*

“Hey dude, don’t look so sad,” said a voice behind him. He was three drinks in and definitely verging on tipsy. He turned to face the voice’s owner.

Oh no, he was really hot.

“What’s up?” the man asked, then, to the bartender. “Another of whatever this gentleman is drinking, on me.”

“Why thank you,” Jake said.

“My pleasure,” the stranger leaned closer, and his smile held a roguish mischief that made Jake’s dejected mood melt right away.

He was hot. He seemed kind, too.

“So, are you here alone?” he asked, and Jake briefly noted the differing tacks he and Heather had taken with that question, wondered if it mattered. But enough about her.

The stranger continued: “or, have you got someone” a beat, he waggled his eyebrows “ _waiting_ for you upstairs?”

“Oh, I’m alone,” Jake said. “That’s kind of the point. Or, I was alone until you showed up.” He hoped his meaning was as clear as he thought, and as he hoped, the stranger’s meaning had been. “I should probably ask your name,” Jake realised out loud.

“Nuh uh,” he said. “That would take all the fun out of it. Just call me Big Sugar.”

 Right, so that seemed to clear up Jake’s uncertainty as to the man’s intentions. “Okay… but why that?” Jake asked

“Why not?” was all the answer he got. “So, you wanna smush?”

Well, straight to the point, Jake noted, then grimaced at ‘smush’. What a word. This time, he wasn’t abandoned in a hurry at his grimace.

“Totes, I wanna… that,” he couldn’t bring himself to say ‘smush’; but also, he inexplicably found himself wanting to chat for a bit, first. Rosa would disapprove. That said, Rosa would probably already be in someone’s bed by now; if anyone he knew was straight to the point, it was Rosa.

“That delights me,” the stranger said, “delights me to my core.”

Jake grinned. This man was so attractive and so clearly into him and it was making him giddy. That, and a broad hand had found its way to a gentle caress across his hip.

“Noice.”

He had squished up on the bar stool to make room for his companion, but really it was such a small seat and that had never been going to happen, so they had ended up both standing and perching back against it as they nursed the rest of their drinks; the entire right and left sides, respectively, of their bodies, were touching from shoulder to toe.

Between that and the warmth of the alcohol, Jake was feeling rather pleasantly flushed, his head full of images of being pressed between the mattress and the weight of him, his handsome face buried in Jake’s neck.

Damn, this had been such an amazing idea.

*

Those hands were not so gentle once they were within the privacy of his suite. He was sure he’d heard at least once a ripping sound from his shirt as it was removed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care in the least. It wasn’t like Jake’s clothes were particularly costly to begin with.

It sent a tingle, or rather a million tingles, down his spine when finally the man kissed him on the lips. He shivered and deepened the kiss, pushing him against the nearest wall as they continued to fumble with their clothes, until they were skin to skin and every nerve ending in his body felt alight with desire.

And then his fantasy from earlier was realised as the luxuriance of the sheets greeted his back, and _by god_ if it wasn’t as brilliant as he had imagined.

*

Waking up the next morning brought reality crashing down upon him. It made him equally thrilled and nervous to find himself being spooned by the comfortable form of a man whose name he still didn’t know. Being spooned was meant to make you feel safe, and inexplicably, he did.

Then the second half of that sentence clicked in his brain. A man whose name he didn’t know. A _man._ With whom he’d openly flirted in a public space. He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to do that anymore. What if someone he knew had seen them? What if his _dad,_ who flew regularly into Montréal, had been there? _Fuck._

He was ready to fly into a panic and run away, and yet; it was done now, and they weren’t quite in a public space any more, and the arms that engulfed his torso felt so comfortable, so right against him.

So he stayed, his mouth forming a little “yes!” shape when his bed partner’s nose nuzzled into his shoulder.

Maybe this morning he would me more receptive to the idea of telling Jake his name. But… he was a stranger, he was _the_ stranger, that was the entire point of this plan.

Yet Jake yearned to know him more.

So much for curing the slump. Memories of the previous night were going to throw him headlong back into it. Jake could see himself being distracted by them for a while to come.

_Fly to Montréal, hit a classy hotel bar, bone a stranger, slump over._

That was it, that was the extent of what he was meant to do. They should have long parted ways by now.

He might have stayed all day, but fuck, his flight back to New York was so soon.

*

Rosa treated him with a nod as soon as he entered the bullpen. But it was Rosa, he knew it meant more than just a nod. He knew she was probably a tad proud of him.

“Jake’s back!” Charles was next to react, of course. “How was it? What was she like?”

The squad grilled him about his trip as he made his way to his desk and tried to continue with his paperwork. As if they’d let him be.

“It was great,” he said. It was true, it _was_ great.

“Was she Latina?” Charles asked, earning him glares from both Jake and Amy. Charles was more obsessed with Jake’s crush on her than Jake was.

“No,” Jake said. It took him a moment to wrap his tongue around the lie that was about to tell. “ _She_ wasn’t.”

He looked up to meet Gina’s eyes, concern written on her face as she watched him closely.

Gina found him sitting, morose, in the evidence room later, and placed a comforting hand on his back, rubbing it in a circle.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“Don’t worry about what?” he feigned ignorance. She was the only one who knew he was bisexual. She would have known what his pause had meant.

“They’re not here now,” she said. “Tell me all about him.”

He did.

 

~several months later~

 

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked. Rosa had summoned him to the interrogation room.

“I just picked him up on a dozen counts of identity theft, his name’s Doug Judy” she said. “You ever seen him before?”

He looked up and immediately stopped in his tracks. The perp sitting on the other side of the glass was pretty good-looking. More to the point, he definitely had seen him before – he just had no idea where.

“No,” he said. Well, he certainly didn’t know the name, that much was true.

“Rosa, Rosa, Ro-sa,” Judy sang. “Oh, yeah, beautiful Rosa.”

“I think he’s into me,” she said, and was that a flash of envy he felt? That made no sense.

“What do you _do_ to these perps?” He asked.

*

As soon as he heard the word ‘Pontiac’, the gnawing feeling that he knew this guy immediately slipped his mind, he was so caught up in the case, so close to finally catching his nemesis.

“Doug Judy!” He shouted, offering him a him a high five, when he said he knew how to get in touch with the Pontiac bandit. He liked this guy. The fact that he was a criminal aside.

A thousand push-ups? What was wrong with him? Why was he so sure this Doug Judy could be trusted? By all accounts the exact opposite was true. _Twelve counts_ of identity theft! And yet, he couldn’t help but trust him; or want to, at least.

And then they were alone without Rosa, and suddenly it seemed Judy was flirting with _him._ But maybe that was just wishful thinking, and… wait, what? Why would Jake be wishing that Judy was flirting with him?

But Judy was so cool. He found they had a lot in common: they both thought space is scary; Judy clearly loves his mum and based on first impressions, Jake thought she seemed wonderful; they both love Fieval Goes West!

That last discovery had been a moment where they had stopped thinking about the case, however briefly, where they had begun to bond, and Jake was reminded how familiar Doug Judy was. They had definitely met before.

Then Rosa broke the moment. And he should have trusted her. With every one of her suspicions that grew, he should have listened to her. But he’d been distracted by this inexplicable thing he felt towards Judy, and then they had been betrayed.

The Pontiac Bandit had slipped through his fingers once again, but this time, as Jake had once more set aside that case file, he was sure that it was with personal feelings he _definitely_ should not have, entangled in its pages.

He asked Rosa to officially join the case to find and apprehend him.

It wasn’t until two thousand regret-filled push-ups later when he was drenched in sweat, and Gina approached him, that he remembered. He’d been drenched in sweat before, but he had not been doing push-ups, no, that time it had been doing something far more fun.

He remembered plush white bedsheets in a frame of solid walnut, pleasantly weighted by an unfamiliar body.

“Gina, Gina, Gina!” he could hear the panic in his own voice as he stood up.

“S’up, little bird?” she asked, and he wondered if she knew.

“Rosa’s going to kill me.” He said.

**Author's Note:**

> Next stop on the train for this pairing: a post-series 5 fic i have planned with endgame doug/jake/amy polyamorous. It might or might not be a sequel to this fic
> 
>  
> 
> If you loved it, please let me know in comments/kudos, i crave validation
> 
>  
> 
> my [tumblr](http://lionowlonao3.tumblr.com) // my [pillowfort](https://pillowfort.io/Lion_owl)


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